SCO Gives It Away: More SCO vs. Linux

Is the Santa Cruz Operation concerned about the growth of Linux? Perhpas. And they have people like Mark Horton to thank for that.

There is a new vendor attempting to enter
the “Free Unix” market. You may have heard of them. And Microsoft
owns part of them. We're talking about SCO, current owner of what
was AT&T Unix. A press release we received says they are
offering a free copy of SCO Open Server. Well, actually, it is a
license for SCO OpenServer—if you actually want the software you
have to pay $19 for the media.

Is this a threat to the Linux community? Not likely. If
anything, it is a response on the part of SCO to the threat of
Linux to their market.

For those who think it is a threat to Linux, the license is
for a single-user version of the product. And, in spite of the fact
that they make it out as a return to AT&T's policy to offer
Unix free to universities, they don't mention that AT&T
included source code. SCO does not.

Sure, there will be some takers on what they offer. It will
give people a chance to get a mini-Unix to play with. Then they
will be ready to graduate to Linux.

Mark Horton Passes Away

Mark Horton, one of the Linux community's strongest
proponents, has died. In September, his friend, Victoria Welch (
vikki@seastar.org),
had this to say about Mark:

The Linux world suffered the loss of one of its
greats on September 9, 1996. Mark A. Horton (from GA Tech) passed
away in his sleep. Mark had been in poor health for some time, but
of late, he seemed to be making a comeback. His passing blindsided
those of us close to him.

I first encountered Mark in the version 0.9x days of Linux.
Having reached the end of my rope with SCO and a number of other
Unices, I decided to give this “Linux toy” a try. About all I had
to lose was some time and if it worked, I'd save $3,000 on another
version of the “OS” I was using at the time for another upgrade
that “didn't have any problems”. So I boldly stripped off what I
was using and installed Linux from my pile of floppies (remember
those days?). The rest was history—I was hooked. There were
various problems with it at the time, but I was elated. There was
no one to tell me, “No, we don't have that
problem” and I had the actual source code so I could fix it. For a
Unix junkie, it was Unix nirvana!

It was at this time I met Mark. He was able to sort out the
problems I had and either suggest fixes or workarounds or point me
in the direction to go to solve the problem. Corresponding with him
via e-mail was a pleasure; his enthusiasm, wit, and gentleness I
came to love and now miss deeply. Over time, e-mail led to phone
conversations, frequently in the early morning hours. I couldn't
get angry with him for the time at which he chose to call since the
conversations were always interesting and fun!

Sometime later I separated from my husband and returned home
to Atlanta. In the process of job searching, I was in the Decatur
area and stopped in to say hello to Mark, and we hit it off
wonderfully. He was even more charming in person than via
“e-media”. One thing led to another, and I ended up working for
him doing technical support for InfoMagic—at subsistence
wages—but I was having fun and learning more about Unix than I
ever thought possible.

I thought I was a pretty “hot shot” Unix guru, but working
with Mark was a humbling experience—I probably learned ten times
what I had known. Mark was a stern taskmaster, and I am a far more
competent Unix person because of it. Never have I had such a crash
course, nor more fun doing it. He would plow through the support
calls, usually faster than I could get them out of the queue.
Tireless and enthusiastic, he was having fun, and I've never seen
anyone draw so much satisfaction from helping others. It was common
to field 50+ calls a day—he returned them, and I spent seemingly
forever trying to sort out the mumblings from the less-than-optimal
voice mail system while trying to keep an ear on what he was doing.
His dedication to Linux was amazing to me, even as monomaniacal as
I am. He often started work at 0600, taking calls from around the
world until long past midnight, and then spent time researching the
tough questions or just talking Linux with whoever called. He would
take calls from the other side of the planet and help people rather
than tell them to call back during normal business hours.

He was supposed to have limits: support on installation only.
But too many people had other questions, and he kept almost
everyone satisfied. If anyone made any attempt to solve a problem
on his own, Mark bent over backwards to get him through it.
Numerous times, we got calls from people who expected to stick the
CD-ROM in the drive and immediately be running Linux; even when
they were rude, obnoxious, and threatening, this rarely ruffled his
feathers (although he did occasionally have some choice comments
after a call). Many of the angry callers hung up happy and
satisfied, and some would call or send e-mail back saying they had
figured things out, apologizing for their attitude earlier. Mark
was a master wordsmith with the patience of a saint.

When Mark wasn't directly supporting Linux, he was
researching, talking with those writing the packages and elements
of the system, discussing improvements, and occasionally writing
patches to help out where he could. When not doing all that, he was
talking up Linux and making converts; many of the most recalcitrant
eventually decided to give it a try and thanked him for it.

Around this time, his health was deteriorating, and believe
it or not, it stemmed from physical problems and not the lack of
rest—he got energy out of what he did. He ended up in the hospital
for a week or two, and I ended up taking him a laptop, modem, and
manuals. He hated being there and was working hard to get well
enough to “get back to it”.

We quit doing direct support at that time and went over to
e-mail support. Three hundred messages per day (plus phone calls
from people to whom he'd given his phone number)--it was
overwhelming just trying to categorize them and get boilerplate
responses together. The categorization was 90% of our time and the
other 90% was spent generating the boilerplate. There was simply
not enough time in the day to even have hope. We finally admitted
it was impossible and basically burned out. Although he burned out,
it didn't dampen Mark's enthusiasm or interest. He still tried to
help, and we spent many nights discussing the “this-n-thats”,
ramifications and solutions, until the sun came up and we broke for
breakfast before crashing for a bit of well-earned rest. We worked
our arses off, but it was the kind of work you love—we knew Linux
was “getting there”.

Some of the more interesting stories I'm sure would be
denied—you wouldn't believe some of the places (big places) using
Linux internally. My favorite was a call with a particularly knotty
network problem (as I recall) which I couldn't solve. I was going
to have Mark call the guy back since he was, as usual, buried. The
guy offered to hold, and I told him it might be a while and to just
give me his number and I'd have Mark get back to him. He said
something along the lines of, “We don't get to surface often, er
ah, I mean we don't mind waiting for a bit, we'll just wait.” I
had Mark put his other call on hold and take the call. (He would
never talk about that one.) Other places I know are using it
wouldn't be doing so if Linux wasn't a truly viable and reliable
resource. There are thousands of other stories from “the little
folk” (us), who found new wonder in computing because of Linux. I
could go on, but with most of y'all who read this, I'm “preaching
to the choir”.

Mark was never able to keep a “spare” machine—anything he
built became part of the critical path. He was an inspiration as he
was one of the few people I know who had many machines and actually
knew them better than I did. This had a positive side for me;
working hard at it, I did keep a spare machine and got to try all
the new goodies he was sent, and then we'd hash it all over. If he
wanted to play with it, he would come over or play via the network.
After the initial experience with him, I was willing to relinquish
my claim to being a guru beyond SCO and Slackware, but with his
stretching of my limits, I no longer have any qualms about jumping
into anything to do with Unix or any Linux distribution. Anything I
could say about this extending of my capability, knowledge and
self-confidence would not do it justice.

Looking back over the e-mail I have received since I posted
news of his passing to comp.os.linux.announce, I am convinced I was
but one of many to have this honor and luck.

If it had to do with Linux, Mark was interested. He
experimented with various distributions of Linux, including those
for the Mac and anything else it might run on. His interest was
boundless and his enthusiasm infectious. His quick wit and
intellect were a joy to behold in operation.

When I found him on September 7, he appeared to be resting
peacefully and was, as usual, surrounded by piles of
manuals.

As his best friend and being as close to him as I was, the
job of sorting out his machines and turning off mailing lists so
his parents could wrap up his affairs left me be amazed all over
again at Mark. As well as I knew him, I was only peripherally aware
of all the things he was into. The sheer scope of his studies and
experimentation with Linux became obvious, if a bit mind-boggling.
He was a true hacker in the old definition of the word—research
for the joy of knowledge, not intrusion or destruction.

For those of us who knew him, the loss is acute. I'll miss
the night-long technical discussions, his curiosity, and the joy he
radiated doing the things he did so well. My education will not end
here, as my relationship with him taught me to stretch my own
limits—one of the true joys of Linux is there is no end to
learning!

If there is one thing to regret, it's not writing this while
he was still alive. He wasn't a high profile Linux personality, but
he put more working copies of Linux out there than anyone else I am
aware of. He took the most ignorant (“ignorance can be cured,
stupidity is terminal”) beginners and gave them a start and
undoubtedly infected a high percentage of them with the joy he
found with Linux.

Perhaps this learning experience will encourage others out
there to spend a few minutes writing about those who deserve credit
for Linux being where it is today. I know Mark would have
“poo-poo-ed” something like this, as he didn't feel he was really
doing anything special, but that seems to be a trait of the truly
exceptional.

While I feel a deep sense of loss, I can only try to honor a
request he made repeatedly when the subject of “if anything ever
happens to me...” came up; he was consistent and firm that there
be no moroseness over his passing. A number of his friends are
planning to get together to have a “going away” party for Mark
and to hoist a beverage of choice to the honor of one of the
greats—joy, not sadness, was one of his strongest desires. I'll do
my best to honor this but the passing of my best friend and
greatest mentor in my life does not make it easy.

At the party I intend to recount some of the things I
mentioned here and to raise a glass to the kindest, most loving,
most sharing, overall nicest, funniest and most dedicated person I
have ever known. Hope you are at peace and in no pain. To know you
will be one of the high points in my life; cheers, friend, until we
meet again.

Remember the good guys and say what is in your heart while
you still can.

I'll close with a quote from a Spider Robinson book that I
have found so true with Mark: “Joy shared is multiplied, pain
shared is divided.”